


Safe in your arms

by grandtrblartist



Category: SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Airports, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:01:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22937515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandtrblartist/pseuds/grandtrblartist
Summary: Ten knows what happened is gonna have repercussions later. He's probably gonna get nightmares for a while. He's gonna cling on his band mates wherever they go. Airports are gonna be stress inducing, even more than they already were. He's gonna be scared by crowds, and panic strike if people he doesn't know try to touch him. He knows all that, knows how he works.But for now he's safe, tucked in the warmth of Jongin's body, shielded from everything else. So he let's himself be guided through the airport.He's safe.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Everyone, Kim Jongin | Kai/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 12
Kudos: 250





	Safe in your arms

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my first work on here, so im very nervous (but also very excited). i wrote this in 30 minutes after waking up this morning, it's not beta read or anything, but i was too glad to finally complete one of my writings (even if it's short af) to not post it now. so, enjoy i guess ! :)

He can't breathe. There's too many people around, too many shouts, too much noise. He tries to grip on Taemin's bag, but is only met with a dainty hand. No, that's— that's not normal, where is Taemin?  
Ten jerks away from the hand, only to realize he doesn't know where the other SuperM members are. He doesn't really know where he is himself, in the middle of the airport. There should be a security guard somewhere near him, just behind or in front of him actually, but he can't see well, with his mask on, and his bucket hat low on his eyes. He tries to turn around, to catch sight of Mark, or Taeyong, anyone. But he's only met with a hoard of fangirls, all talking at the same time, crying out his name.  
He can't breathe.  
He loves his fans, he truly does, of course he does. But right at this moment, he hates them. Hates the way they all try to grope him, to touch him, anywhere (he faintly records a hand sliding down his back). Hates how he can't hear himself think over the chants of "Ten, look here!", "Oppa, I love you!". Hates the flashes of fansites' cameras right in his face, blinding him. He can't move, he's submerged by the sea of people surrounding him. 

"No, please,... Don't touch me, I– Please." 

He's not even sure he's speaking out loud, with all the noises coming from left and right. There's panic clawing at his throat, and he holds on to his bag for dear life.  
There's someone pulling on his oversized sweater, someone trying to shove letters and gifts in his hands, and he tries to catch them all, fails miserably. He knows they're gonna bash him for it, knows this is how it works. Even as he's being mobbed, if he doesn't accept what the fans offer him, he's an asshole.  
He's physically crowded, people all around him, but he can't see anyone with his hat still on. Until it's not on anymore. He feels the rigid fabric of the bucket hat sliding off his head, and his eyes bulge out. That was his last barrier against all the fans surrounding him. Now he can see all their eyes, all their mouths moving to articulate words he can't understand. They're all pushing each other, trying to get closer than they already are to him.  
His head is reeling, buzzing, mind fogging. He can't focus on anything, not even his own body as it is pulled from every side, not on a face because there's too many people, not on a voice because they're all talking over each other. He's not even sure he can hear the automated voices of the airport anymore.  
Some are taller than him, perched on platform shoes, and he can't see past the crowd no matter how hard he tries. There are big camera lenses being shoved in his face, and he tries to avoid them, to not knock them out because he knows how much the fansites paid for them, and he doesn't want to cause any trouble. He's turning around when one of them hits his head, knocking the air out of him. 

"Please—" 

"Oppa! You're so mean, you don't even answer us!" 

"Ten! Look this way!" 

"I love you!" 

"Do you know about the rumors about you?" 

What? What rumors? Just, please, make it stop. Make it stop, make it stop.  
He doesn't even realize he crying and heaving for breath, losing his balance slightly. He can't process the fact that even as he feels like he's falling, hands are everywhere on his body, touching him instead of helping him.  
He's suffocating.  
They're everywhere. On his face, pulling at his mask, fleeting around his ear (he fears for a moment one of them is gonna try and snatch one of his earrings), on his neck, pawing at the neck of his sweater, on his arms and holding his hands. There are some more on his waist, and he can feel someone trying to hug him, but he can't do anything.  
It feels as if he's drowning, panic blurring every single one of his senses. 

And then, there's nothing. He vaguely feels a strong arm howling him away, another pair of hands setting on his arms, and there's a lurch of panic inside him, before he can feel all the other ones fading away. He can't do anything but let himself be dragged around, vision spotty and eyes glazed over by tears. The screaming is still here though, and Ten feels as if he's still in there, still surrounded by hysteric fans and being tugged at from everywhere. 

His body is on autopilot, legs walking even though he feels as if they should not be able to support the weight of his body. Someone new grabs him by the waist, ushers him into a room, and there's silence. Finally. 

He's an inch away from a panic attack, trying to get back into a normal headspace. There's too much to think about. Is he hurt somewhere? He doesn't feel as such, but he did kind of dissociate from his body out there.  
His train of thoughts gets interrupted by someone engulfing him into a hug, and he immediately claws at their back. His mind is too foggy to register who's holding him, but he knows the scent. He's safe. 

"Come on Tennie, come back to us." 

The voice probably comes from the person he's holding onto like a koala, but it sounds far away. He still can't breathe, and a winded sob wrack through his body, the sound ugly and desperate. 

"You got to breathe baby, come on, breathe with me, that's it, you're doing amazing."

Ten doesn't feel as though he's doing amazing, but he tries. He tries so hard to get his head out of the water, to come back to his senses. 

It feels like years before he calms down completely. He's still crying, and his brain supplies him with the feeling of embarrassment, but he pushes it away, focusing on his breath. The person holding him his running a hand along his back, rocking gently, and that's when he realizes they're on the floor. His legs must have given in after all.

"Ten, angel, can you hear me?" 

He nods curtly, a simple movement that makes his head throb, and he whimpers shakily. 

"It's okay, darling, it's okay, you're safe, we're gonna take care of you, baby. You're safe here, it's alright, you can come back, come on."

The voice is so soft, gently cooing, and it's pulling him back in, slowly.  
He's safe.  
There's another hand belonging to someone else carding through his hair, and he let's himself melt into the touch before he opens his eyes. 

"Hi, sweetie."

Taemin greets him from where he's kneeling in front of him, a concerned crease in his forehead, but eyes and smile gentle.  
Ten tries to process everything. The person holding him is Jongin, halfway sitting behind him, his front flushed against his back, strong arms encircling him. The hand in his hair is Taeyong, sat on the couch next to him, eyes wet and mouth tight lipped.  
Next to Taeyong, on the couch, are Mark and Yukhei, eyeing him with worry. And in a corner of the room, discussing vehemently with security and managers, is Baekhyun. 

When the leader turns his head to assess Ten's state, he can see the fury in his eyes fading away, replaced by pure worry. It takes him three strides across the room to flop down next to Ten on the floor, and pull him into a hug. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

His head is tucked into Ten’s neck, nosing along his jaw faintly, exhaling shakily as he hugs him tighter. 

"It's okay, Hyung," Ten's voice breaks on the last word, but he continues. "It's not your fault." 

"Still, I should have been more careful." Baekhyun reluctanly lets go of him. 

Before he can answer, the door is opening, seven pairs of eyes on the person entering. Ten feels Jongin's hold on him getting tighter, but it's just a manager coming back with the items he lost during the whole thing out there —his mask and his bucket hat. 

"Ah, Hyung. I'm fine, you can let go of me."

His hands are on top of Jongin's, trying to get him to let go, but he's persistent, tightening his hold as the seconds pass.  
Taemin chuckles lightly, wiping Ten's tears from his damp cheeks with his thumb. 

"Excuse him, he's a bit too experienced on situations like that. He's probably not gonna let go of you until we're on the plane."

Oh. Oh. Ten didn't even think about how this could've affected the other members of SuperM, but now that he thinks of it, it's probably not the first time Jongin and Baekhyun witness one of their member getting mobbed at an airport.  
With a sigh he let's himself melt into Kai's chest, noticing the other letting out a relieved breath, hold loosening a bit. 

"What happened?" Mark's voice cuts through the silence. 

Ten looks up at the ceiling, feeling the eyes of his band mates on him. 

"I don't really know, to be honest. I just– It's like, one second Taemin-hyung was beside me, and the next I was surrounded by fans."

"If you can even call them fans," mutters Xuxi under his breath, but everyone hears him. 

They say nothing, no wanting to dwell on that matter for now, and it's Baekhyun who speaks again first. 

"Well, the good news is they've all been taken out of the airport, so you don't have to worry about them, Ten. The slightly less good news is that we have to leave now, or we're gonna miss our flight."

"Are you gonna be okay Ten? We can always take the next if needed," Taemin interrupts. 

"No, Hyung, I'm fine really, just… Just a bit shaken. We can take this flight." 

"You sure?" Taeyong asks. 

It's Jongin that answers for him. 

"He's not leaving my side. If anyone tries to get to him, they have to get through me first. And I'm sitting with him on the plane. And we're taking the VIP exit when we land."

Ten laughs inwardly at that. Who knew it would take him being mobbed for Jongin and him to get close. 

" Okay, well let's go then. The manager-hyungs already have all of our baggage verified."

They all stand at the same time, Ten on wobbly legs. But there's Kai by his side, flushed against his side, hands gripping his elbows to keep him upright.  
He's safe.  
There's no one waiting on the other side of the door to jump on him.  
He's safe. 

Ten knows what happened is gonna have repercussions later. He's probably gonna get nightmares for a while. He's gonna cling on his band mates wherever they go. Airports are gonna be stress inducing, even more than they already were. He's gonna be scared of crowds, and panic striken if people he doesn't know try to touch him. He knows all that, knows how he works. 

But for now he's safe, tucked in the warmth of Jongin's body, shielded from everything else. So he let's himself be guided through the airport.  
He's safe.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on twitter @grandtrbIartist


End file.
